Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
My thoughts immediately went to her. If I had a different life, I would make her mine. Bend her to my will and devour her until she knows nothing but me. Eventually, though, she would become a pawn to my father. And he would ruin her, just as he’s ruined everyone else I’ve selfishly brought into his game.
I consider the comment my father made when I arrived at the restaurant. Thought you were calling back to decline. I knew you knew better. He had me at a loss until he explained the hang-up. Since I was already in my car, someone else made that call. A little someone I left in my office, confused when I left without a word. Seems she went to find her own answers and checked my call log. It was bold of her to call the number back, though. Either way, it gave me a reason to scold her. Hear her voice.
But when she answered, she was the one to give me the earful. That little brat was getting herself off, and I could tell she’d been drinking. But the way she answered each question. . . Her husky voice and the soft, breathy sounds morphed into deep pants. I wondered who she was thinking about when she fucked herself. My cock hardened with each reply. God, I wanted to be in that room with her. Watch her touch herself. Smell her arousal. Memorize her face as she came. I was tempted to wrap my fist around my dick and jerk off to the beautiful sound of her masked moans.
By the time she orgasmed, I was parked outside her new apartment. Not sure what the hell I was doing there. I knew better. I knew what my father was capable of. But she was becoming my weakness. And if I didn’t let go of this obsession with her, I would be her demise.
Lost in my thoughts, a noise comes from outside my office door, and I raise my head. I hear Fay’s voice, which starts to calm me, but then it’s followed by that little shit from Research. I grab my phone and hit the intercom. “Miss Evans, I’ll take my coffee and agenda if you’re quite finished.” I slam it back on the receiver.
With a quick knock on my door, Fay walks in, holding my coffee. “Morning. Here’s your coffee, nice and hot.”
I observe her expression as she walks in and sets the mug on my desk. Either she’s trying to play coy, or she doesn’t remember. Interesting.
“How are you feeling this morning? Refreshed?”
Her brows rise in confusion. “Yeah, um. . . fine. And you?”
I’m going with the latter. I lean back in my chair, loving her discomfort. I decide to push it a little further. “Who were you thinking about when you came last night?”
Her eyes widen, and she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, running her palms down her skirt. My eyes drop, trailing her movements, imagining my tongue running up her thighs.
“I’m. . . uh, not really sure what you’re talking about.”
“I heard you coming. It’s a very distinct sound when a woman orgasms.” Her cheeks blaze crimson, and my cock jerks. I’m taking this too far. Even mentioning it was a bad move. Now, it’s all I can think about. “But I am curious who you were thinking about.”
Her mouth parts. Fuck, the things I want to do to those lips. I bet—no, I know they would be heavenly.
“Yeah, again, I’m not sure what you’re talking—”
“Check your call log, Miss Evans. You may have forgotten, but I didn’t.”
I’ve stunned the words right out of her. “Shall I take a guess—”
“No! No. It was no one. Look, I was drinking. Anything I said or did was due to alcohol.”
I stay silent, the nervous shifting of her body and the small shake in her voice showing how uncomfortable she is. “You must have called at a bad time.”
“I think I called at the perfect time.” Her lips part, and I imagine shoving my cock between them. I lean forward and reach for my coffee. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”
“Wait. I didn’t say it was you—”
“And I’ll take another cup.” She closes and opens her mouth. I may have broken her. “Is there anything else, Miss Evans?”
“No. Nothing else.” I clench my fist around my mug as she walks out. I need to stop this little game with her and stick to my original rule. Look but don’t touch.
Fay
Once the door closes behind me, I squeeze my eyes closed and scream, “Fuck!” in my head. That did not just happen. I didn’t do that last night. Then I remember my vibrator on the floor. . . “Fuck!” I hiss through my teeth. It all comes rushing back—the tequila, the call, his voice. How could my subconscious allow me to do that? Because your subconscious was also drunk. Dammit, I did drink a lot.